


Great Man, A

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 15:18:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11338125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Spender deals with the aftermath of his encounter with an alien rebel.





	Great Man, A

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

A Great Man by Sue

Title:- A Great Man  
Author:- Sue <>  
URL:- The Pest House at <http://www.tifling.demon.co.uk/x/gateway.htm>  
Date:- 3rd May 1999  
Rating:- NC17  
Pairing:- Krycek/Spender  
Spoilers:- Two Sons  
Summary:- Spender deals with the aftermath of his encounter with an alien rebel.  
Miscellaneous Notes:- I know, I know, I'm late, but better late than never! Many thanks to my much put upon beta reader. I was a real pest with this one and he just smiled sweetly and said "Yes, dear." True love!

* * *

A Great Man by Sue

Never had words wrecked such devastation upon a man's soul.

"I'll be my own great man," Spender managed before the sharp bite of bile rising in his throat silenced him.

Blindly, Spender fled the other man's perceptive gaze, the executioner's illuminating words chasing hard, demanding confession. There was no escape. The past could not be undone. A killer had revealed the truth, brought recognition, where a mother's hysteria had not. His own mocking words, placating a too imaginative child, soured with spite in his traitorous mouth. The veracity of her tale impugned all those years by her bastard son. A sniveling miserable excuse of a son. 

She deserved better. Much better than he.

Excuses quickly gained life. It had been the body. Yes, the body, that was what had convinced him. Proof positive. Evidence of his own eyes, green putrid slime oozing from fast rotting flesh. How could he not believe the disintegrating corpse? Who, but a hysterical woman, could believe in alien abduction otherwise?

No! No! No! What a cop out. He didn't need the body just ... just ... a resonance in Krycek's voice. From a dark angel's lips to his gut in two seconds flat. Those eyes spoke it too. Unceasing darkness, soul deep, reflected and recognised.

Stumbling against the front door he tugged on the heavy iron latch. Before it had swung more than a few inches he relented, letting it settle slightly ajar. Leaning against the door, permitting its strength to stiffen his spine as he fought for self control, he pushed it closed. What on earth was he doing, a grown man, an agent in the FBI, fleeing like a frightened child? Krycek must think him quite a coward; unable to face reality.

But he was scared. Scared what the truth meant for the future. Why on earth had he come here to murder that man? Because his father asked? Because he wanted advancement? What was he becoming? No, the real question was, what had he become?

Bile rose in his throat once more. He swallowed hard and took a steadying breath. He needed answers, direction. Krycek would tell him; hadn't the other man saved him once already tonight? Turning back to face the room Spender startled as Krycek's smiling face winked provocatively only inches from his own. He stiffened in surprise. Krycek's eyes were dark and heavy-lidded, his lips full, red as if with arousal. "Jeff ...." Spender's eyes focused on the source of the husky whisper and followed Krycek's tongue as it darted out and moistened his upper lip.

"I ..."

Fingers tightened hard into his shoulder, fixing him in place, as Krycek held his gaze. "Don't worry about it. The first time is usually the hardest." Krycek's gloved thumb rubbed Spender's collar bone before tracing a path to the hollow at the base of his throat.

Spender gulped hard. "What do I do?" 

Smiling, Krycek nodded, his head dipping by Spender's left ear, breathing warmth over the skin. Words tickled with a whisper, "I'll show you." 

Shivering, Spender held his breath, waiting. For what he wasn't sure. Needful of oxygen, he sucked in a small mouthful of air. The aroma of Krycek's potent presence seeped in with the breath, marking him with a tangy scent of musk. Mesmerised, his body refused to do anything other than stand stiffly to attention, waiting for Krycek's next move. 

A warm moist mouth enveloped his ear lobe, murmuring as it sucked, sending jolts of pleasure down his spine. 

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! He was in real trouble now.

Krycek flicked the lobe with his tongue then nipped at his neck. Perhaps if he just stood there, unresponsive, the other man would tire of him and cease his sexual provocation. Instead, Krycek, with a broad stroke of his tongue, traversed Spender's cheek, stopping only when he reached a pair of pursed lips. Humiliation flashed beet red across his skin. 

An arm curved about Spender's waist locking their abdomens tight together. The press of Krycek's erect cock sent a blazing burn through him. Finally, galvanised into action, he opened his mouth to object. A two pronged assault was launched against him. The other man's tongue probed deep in his mouth while a hand cupped his own erection, squeezing firmly.

God, when did that happen?

"Adrenalin's a real turn on, ain't it?" Krycek laughed.

Panting, Spender leant back against the door, needing its support as his legs trembled, threatening imminent capitulation beneath him. He hadn't felt this out of control since third grade when Shirley Lewandowski had initiated him into the world of doctors and nurses. Shocked and painfully aroused he tried to speak. 

Krycek got their first. "Well, would you like a hand?" The smirk was obvious in the words if not on the man's face.

The moment lengthened. Spender tried to concentrate, focusing on the clicking passage of time marked by a clock elsewhere in the house. He kept floundering like a beached whale. "Just 'cos a guy has a hard-on doesn't mean he has to stick it somewhere," he managed with a clenched jaw.

"No? Can't say I agree with you on that one Jeffrey." Krycek nipped at his chin, a slight sneer playing on his lips. "Finish me."

"No."

"No?" whispered Krycek menacingly as his hand wrapped around Spender's throat, his grip tightening, constricting the airway. "But it's so much more pleasurable than killing a man."

Fear took Spender, suffocating his mind and leadening his limbs. He had backed himself into a corner and the only way out was through Krycek. At least if he wanted to get out alive. Failing to uncover any more tolerable alternative he capitulated. Krycek eased his grip and pressed his lips softly against the bruised skin. 

"Get on with it then," Krycek mumbled as he nuzzled Spender's neck.

Tears filled Spender's eyes, threatening to fall. He swallowed hard, fighting them back. Half-blinded he fumbled for Krycek's jeans, unbuttoning them by touch alone. Shoving the jeans down he took hold of Krycek's hard shaft with his right hand and began to stroke it with a tentative clasp. 

"No," said Krycek softly.

Spender's hand faltered. He raised his eyes cautiously to meet Krycek's, dark with menace. A shiver slivered down his spine and his cock throbbed painfully. 

Roughly, Krycek unfastened Spender's trousers, grabbed a handful of fabric and hauled them down. The briefs followed suit, leaving Spender bare from waist to knee. "Turn around." A look of horror flashed across his face but Krycek merely smiled and nodded. Spender obeyed awkwardly, his limbs trembling. He sucked in a sudden gulp of air as one of Krycek's gloved fingers pried between his buttocks; his head dropped, his pride smarting at the assault. 

Spender fought to keep silent, to keep within him his despair. He lost the battle. "Please?" He couldn't keep the whine out of his voice.

The finger burrowed deeper. 

"I ... I ..." His body slackened with submission and he begged miserably, "Please don't?" 

"You a virgin?"

Flushing, he stammered, "Yes, of course, I am."

A hand turned him and Krycek kissed him softly on each shuttered eye. "We'll save it for later then." Steadily Krycek pressed on his shoulder. Spender knelt with comprehension, relief flooding him, grateful to have avoided being buggered. Cupping Krycek's cock with both hands he tentatively licked the top. It tasted bitter on his tongue.

"Suck it," Krycek demanded hoarsely.

Letting the head press between his lips, Spender sucked the top, swirling his tongue under the foreskin cap. Krycek groaned, splaying his legs wider and leaning forward, resting his forearm flat against the door. Spender rocked back and forth, sucking and licking the other man's shaft, speeding and slowing in response to the thrust of Krycek's hips.

With horrified fascination, Spender realised how natural it felt to have a man's cock in his mouth. To be a cocksucker. The word had always been an epithet he'd smarted at, but now ... Now it made his cock throb harder.

Krycek's balls climbed higher, constricting with tension, forewarning of his orgasm. Spender tried to withdraw, to take more of the cock between his hands but Krycek thrust harder, forcing his cock deeper into Spender's throat, causing him to gag. Fighting back his panic, Spender sought escape from the battering but Krycek pursued him, forbidding evasion. Finally, Krycek relented, granting him his wish and withdrew, thrusting instead through his own fist as he pulsed his orgasm on Spender's face. 

The silence of the house began to reassert itself as Spender waited for the storm crashing in his ears to calm. Krycek trailed his fingers through the sticky semen, across Spender's cheek, then licked at them with relish. "Beg my pardon, how rude of me," Krycek stated mockingly as he offered his hand for Spender to taste. Shuddering, Spender shook his head, wiping the come angrily away with the back of his hand. Revulsion and returning guilt mingled as the other man's seed cooled on his skin.

Sated, Krycek stepped back, zipped his jeans and appraised the kneeling man. 

"Do you know what to do now?"

Silence was its own answer.

Squatting, Krycek straightened the collar of Spender's shirt and patted his cheek affectionately. "Would you like a hand with that?" Krycek nodded at Spender's groin.

Again, Spender refused.

"Okay. Just remember who saved your ass tonight, Jeff." Standing, he walked back into the house and out of Spender's sight.

Slumping, Spender stared at nothing. Numb. He deserved it all, every humiliation that Krycek could perform. It was not nearly enough. The guilt of his mother's suffering still burnt fiercely inside. A little eased, perhaps, but not nearly enough for his soul to be cleansed. Need ached painfully in his groin. He covered it with his hand. NO! He mustn't. There was only one way now. He had something Krycek wanted. In exchange he'd get his absolution.

The End.


End file.
